We gave it a B
Dirty Plotte (plotte is French-Canadian slang for the female genitals) is the kind of comic book that often winds up banned. But despite the title and the ragged, ratty drawings that depict (you might even say revel in) menstruation, cannibalism, castration, and self-mutilation, nothing here feels especially provocative, inflammatory, or even perverse. What Dirty Plotte does feel like — what it is, from cover to cover — is an id with free access to an ink bottle.
Refusing to shape her mind’s life into anything resembling stories, 25-year-old Montreal-born cartoonist Julie Doucet draws her night dreams (and dates them) and her daydreams (and doesn’t edit them). The honesty is unsettling, but funny too — if you can get past the knives, the teeth, and the unprovoked assaults with a hypodermic needle. There are three issues so far, each one mixing new work with reprints of Doucet’s earlier, self-published material. Dirty Plotte could turn into Krafft-Ebing on newsprint, but for now it’s on the cutting edge (no pun intended). Definitely not for kids, though. B